


A Cool New Kind of Kiss

by Masin (masinsam)



Category: Polygon/McElroy Vlogs & Podcasts RPF
Genre: Mild Gore, awful squad au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-31
Updated: 2018-02-02
Packaged: 2019-03-11 19:37:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13531143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/masinsam/pseuds/Masin
Summary: The fastest way to a man's heart is through his stomach; that's a vore thing.Nick gets shot bad. Griffin kisses his guts. I'm sorry. It's bad





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For Sheriff's good good gore art....

Depending on how close a teammate was, the feeling usually only lasted for a moment. 

 

Dying sucked, but the game design for PUBG was pretty impressive in that way. 

 

Something was built into the game to make team healing an effortless process; realistic enough to feel the urgency of tending to a wound mid-battle and the valor that came soon after.

Apparently a lot of things were built into the game in a very impressive way.

Nick can’t remember how he let it happen- why he didn’t notice the other player in the upstairs’ bedroom, or why he suddenly couldn’t remember what hip he had his gun strapped to before it was too late. During the game, he had been much more preoccupied with showing off for the audience; chatting about the sweet boots he had just come across in the kitchen and teasing Griffin over their comm-devices about his current, pitiful lack of boot-y thereafter. Nick had been laughing, bounding up the stairs flashily to score more junk before things got wild in the ever shrinking circle. He loved the comm-system in the game and how it allowed him to hear Griffin’s voice so clearly in his head even when they were houses apart, separately looting for themselves.

“You’re the fucking worst dude, stay frosty.” Griffin lightly chides, his laugh chiming in Nick’s ear; breathy and hushed.

 

Nick trips on a step on his way up.

What Nick could remember was that the shot came as quickly as Nick could blink. He didn’t even have a chance to see the guy’s face. A shotgun blast felt different than most types of guns in the game…less of a stinging pierce and more of a ripping force, pushing his body back and causing Nick to violently recoil and instantly double over, feet scrambling with adrenaline to keep upright.

He didn’t know if the game facilitated it or if it was his actual body’s reaction, but time always seemed to slow when he got shot like this- and it wasn’t in a cool Matrix way either. It was gray and draining, thumping and dragging like the hands on a clock. It was like taking a long inhale underwater; having the realization of it all slowly fall on top of you as you fell backwards. The stinging pain. The throbbing numbness. The crack of heat when his back and head collided onto the wood panel flooring.

_ Ouch. _

 

The bastard didn’t even take the time to loot his rad as fuck boots.

Nick’s hand couldn’t reach his earpiece to chat to Griffin, but they had their markers on the map to show their location. 20 seconds of silence later and he feels the small, warm sensation that signifies Griffin’s marker is getting closer, a same-team perk Nick really enjoyed. He wished he could feel that every time Griffin got closer. (He thinks he probably does.)

“Nick?...” He hears Griffin call out. Griffin knows where Nick is- that Nick hasn’t moved in minutes, but continues to call for him anyway.

Nick tries, but can barely answer. A wad of phlegm has gathered in his throat, it’s tinny, metallic and he knows there’s probably some blood up in the mix as well. He gurgles for a while, struggling to speak and listening to Griffin’s weight stomp up the stairs, urgently.

“... _ H…..h…” _

“…Nick?” Griffin pauses at the doorway, frozen for a moment; horror visibly jolting through him. After a second, Griffin’s shoulders drop and he slowly walks forward into the room, “...Oh Nick…” He sighs, almost breathless.

For a quick second, Nick thinks it’s irritation in Griffin’s voice. Nick tries to steady his breathing, wheezing shallowly and adjusts the angle of his arm- winces at the shooting pain the movement causes. “… _ W…..Whoopsie.”  _ He hopes the weak smile he offers is convincing, but honestly, he can’t feel one half of his face.  

Griffin forces air out through his nose, dropping to his knees and pulling his lips tightly together. He’s staring at something. Nick can tell he’s probably a sight to see, wants to laugh at the pure horrific attention Griffin is giving him right now as he scans his body. “.. _ so….s-s’not bad…right? _ ”

Griffin breathes out his nose again, loud. The noise almost sounds like he’s laughing too; desperate, witless. “Nah bud….They gotcha pretty bad...”

Nick only notices his self crying when a few drops stream down his cheek; tickling his stubble and dampening the collar of his shirt. A drop catches on the corner of his dry lips, the hint of salt a clear sensation for just a fleeting moment. It hurts so much.The pain usually only lasted for a moment. Something built in the game made healing effortless.              

“ _ G….Grif..”  _ Griffin is looking at him. Staring at him. Nick’s heart pounds faster, heavy and violent against his ribcage. Has he felt this before? Maybe. Not like this. Griffin looks…

Griffin looks like….Griffin is looking at Nick in a way….Nick can’t think connect his thoughts but, there’s a wanting there. As much as Nick wants the pain to stop. 

“ _ ……p…ple..ase..”  _ Even words hurt, even his tongue is throbbing, the sound of his own broken voice ringing in his ears; nearly drowned by the fanatic beating of his heart. “ _ h…ah….h…heal me… please…” _

Not enough health gone to need a revive, not enough health to heal yourself; it was a hellish purgatory that most players avoided by having plenty of friends and self applying med-kits handy.

All Nick had wanted this session was Griffin and some cool ass boots. Currently, he still admittedly has both.

Nick strains and looks down his body for the first time and  _ jesus fuck _ , he really is a mess. The shotgun had ripped into his abdomen and skimmed it at an angle that blasted away most of everything in it’s way. He goes dizzy when he looks at himself, red- there’s so much red and pieces of  _ him _ just dangling and- his throat tightens and he wheezes out a desperate noise. His legs are shaking violently now, he wants to stop moving because it makes everything hurt so much more but he  _ can’t _ and he opens and clenches his fist, begging now- opening his mouth to force something out as he stares wide eyed at his friend- at the most important person in the world to him right now- to him forever. Tears are now freely streaming down Nick’s face, open and broken and he wonders how he looks right now. It must be interesting because Griffin has been silent for a while, aligning his gaze to Nick’s for a few moments before slowly sliding his eyes down to stare at the gaping gash over Nick’s abdomen. The corners of Nick’s eyes begin to fog up and soon his entire field of vision begins to blur until suddenly-

 

Just for a moment-

 

It instantly clears. 

 

The clarity is paired with a feeling- just a touch, as Griffin places his hand to the part of Nick’s side that’s still in tact and covered by his bloodied shirt. The hand is gentle, warm and intentional as Griffin uses it to steady himself; posture leaning forward and eyes still silently glued to Nick. 

 

Nick stares back at him. Beads of sweat slide down his brow and burn his eyes but he doesn’t blink them away. He just stares back.

 

Depending on how close a teammate was, the feeling usually only lasted for a moment. 

 

But Griffin was close now,  _ so very close _ , and the feeling wasn’t ending. 

 

“ _ G...Griffin?”  _ tears flowed as Nick clenched his teeth. Somehow, within the fog and panic in his brain, Nick knew. 

 

When his plea, broken and quiet and sobbing, didn’t garner a response- he somehow knew. 

 

The tip of Griffin’s tongue peaked from between his lips, his wide-eyed gaze at Nick twisting knots in Nick’s stomach- and it was almost mesmerizing to watch; to see Griffin, like a magnet, slowly gravitate down towards Nick’s open gash. Somehow, Nick knew.

 

He doesn’t know how he can tell, but he can feel how wet the inside of him is and how much- how  _ desperately  _ Griffin wanted to feel it. When Griffin’s tongue makes contact, Nick hisses sharply at the jolt of pain it sends to his brain and gross  _ it’s so gross this is so gross _

 

Nick’s entire body instinctively jerks, enough that he’s actually able to lift his head slightly and all he can do is stare at Griffin. All Nick can do is stare at his best friend leaning over him, tongue pressed against his exposed intestines. Nick’s breathing is ragged, struggling to leave his lungs with every exhale and the sight is….he’s so fucking confused. 

 

It feels so bad, he can feel Griffin, each tiny bump of his taste buds trailing fire as they scrape softly against his organ and it feels so bad, he’s never felt Griffin like this before.

 

It feels so bad, it burns and throbs and he’s never felt Griffin so close before. 

 

Nick can barely think when Griffin leans back up slightly to stare at him again, blood reddening a part of his chin and dripping from his bottom lip. He looks curious. His eyes are shot, pupils dilated and dark; resounding with something dangerous beneath. He tilts his head and blinks once, considering his options, Nick can only assume. 

 

Nick barely has time to shake his head, before Griffin leans back down.

 

With almost clinical precision, Griffin gingerly peels a fold of the thick layer of lacerated skin and muscle, just on the edge of the gash, to expose more of Nick’s organs. As he pinches, his fingers slip and slide across the bloody fold and he takes a reverend moment to linger. Almost lovingly, he dips two fingers into the flesh, tenderly running the pads of his fingertips along the inner lining of Nick’s muscle layer there. 

 

Nick’s stomach lurches. Half of his brain goes to static as spikes spikes  _ spikes spikes  _ of unbearable pain travel from his abdomen and burn up past his eyes and in straight into his brain. “ _ Hhhh..!!”  _ Nick chokes on his cry and it’s  _ wrong _ . It’s wrong how he can  _ feel _ Griffin there, inside of him, rubbing a part of him that’s never supposed to be touched like this. It’s wrong how he can  _ feel _ Griffin there, inside of him. It’s wrong how much he can feel Griffin. Everything he feels is Griffin and it hurts so much how overwhelming Griffin is being. 

 

Now that more of his lower organs are exposed, Griffin eyes go hazy, half-lidden, and he leans further in to gently press his lips against the wet gathering of meat and organs. His lips softly glide against the mucusy film of slime and blood and whatever shit was going on  _ inside _ Nick as he continues to give it lazy, light pecks. It’s heat and fire and it rushes up his body to the back of his brain and all way back down to his stomach, to where Griffin’s lips are touching him. All the while, Griffin’s thumb is rubbing small circles on the edge of his gaping laceration and Nick is unprepared when he sinks the thumb, suddenly and unforgivingly, into the soft flesh of his intestines as he kisses a line up one limp, bloody tube;  grotesquely curved, sickeningly jaundice and so so unnatural to see.

 

Nick could, he morbidly considers, almost see it as a caress- if it wasn’t so painful and  _ god  _ was it painful, but-

 

He saw how Griffin looked. How his eyebrows were knitted and eyes closed; how his shoulders moved so carefully as he pressed his lips again and again against Nick. Griffin’s ministrations almost seemed….reverent. 

 

Nick had never been touched like this before. He had never felt Griffin like this before. Not here. 

 

The world breaks into complete black when Nick feels Griffin part his lips slowly against him. Nick can feel himself begin to violently shake again; a sudden rush of blood travels down his body and drains from his face. As his breath is almost ripped from his lungs, he can hear the tiniest noise; the wet, tiny,  _ smacks _ from Griffin as he now presses open-mouthed kisses into Nick’s spleen. Griffin kisses it so gently, over and over again; turning his head this way and that for a new angle to kiss the organ and softly smearing fresh blood on his chin- coating over the drying layer. 

 

“ _ Ngh! G..Griffin….s...sto...p..”  _

 

Griffin hums approvingly. He deepens the kiss; pressing his tongue between the mass of organs and lapping in broad strokes. His whole body begins to move with his kisses as he rocks more into it; waves moving through his body as he gets lost, kissing and nipping and tasting and pulling more of Nick into his mouth. Everything is on fire. 

 

Nick’s body seizes up one last time and it hurts so much; he never felt anything like this. He’s never felt Griffin like this. His body is lifelessly rocking slightly from side to side as Griffin’s kisses weigh into him and he can feel the burn of Griffin’s nose nuzzle into his body and the scrape of his teeth and he’s swaying and he’s hurting and he’s so close to Griffin, he’s so close, he-

 

[PLAYER DECEASED]

 

Nick startles and stares into the darkness as his body gathers purchase of….actual life.

 

Sweating, he slowly lifts the VR headset. 

 

His arm is plastered over his stomach, trembling slightly and touching over where Griffin’s lips had been. Where his  _ tongue… _

 

A wave of nausea and embarrassment and excitement rushes over him and he rushes to the bathroom.

  
  
  
  
  



	2. Don't think about it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is after they've been doing this for a while. Griffin slurps. Nick dies.

“You’re doing so good.”

 

There’s a waiver in Griffin’s voice, wading through his warm, low tone; something exciting and dark. 

 

Nick doesn’t wonder why he likes this, he’s made a rule to never think about much of anything when it happens and the moments afterwards as well; the implications of it, the fucked-upness of it- it took a practiced numbing of the brain that kind of came a little too easily for him. Especially when he was lying on the ground, incapacitated, in virtual pain that mostly his brain conjured up with the help of Griffin. Griffin, the artist with the paintbrush creating works of art and new sensations on Nick’s body for his brain to try to desperately parse and create a feeling for.

 

It was fucked up, but he didn’t think about it. What he thought about was how nice Griffin was being to him. How warm and gentle his hand was as it swept across Nick’s forehead, even if it did smear blood all over his skin. He thought about how pleased Griffin looked, how proud he was of Nick, when all Nick was really doing was just lying around; wincing and writhing, hissing through his teeth and trying not to pass out. His brain would often try to tap out early; tired of simulating the pain- creating feelings that a body probably shouldn’t feel while conscious. The feeling of fingers gently rubbing your pancreas, of lips pressing against your spleen, of teeth gingerly nipping at your intestines- his brain would short circuit and push Nick into a hazy fog, desperately trying to end the experience. 

 

“You still with me, bud?” Griffin smoothes his hands over Nick’s stomach, over the part still in tact and continuing down over his guts as well and Nick shivers violently; it hurts. He loves the way Griffin is looking at him. Griffin’s eyes are dark and focused, his breath heavy with such a satisfied smile and it gives Nick a burst of energy. Nick blinks away the tears that are blurring the image because he wants to see, he wants to experience Griffin like this. So content, because of him. 

 

“ _ E…Eyup..”  _ Nick’s lips quiver, franticly twitching the muscles of his face as he works to give a small smile. 

 

Griffin lights up at that and his eyes scan Nick’s body. “Oh? Hey this one isn’t from me.” He pokes his finger at a bullet wound just below Nick’s collarbone, barely missing his heart. “Oh, Nicholas….We literally were on the map for 5 minutes and another player already got to you.” He shifts from poking to pressing his thumb completely into the bullet hole. “Typical…”

 

Nick yells, at least he thinks it’s a yell. His broken voice hums, long and pitiful, and his head lolls to the side. That’s a new sensation his brain wasn’t ready for. 

 

“Shh, shh.” Griffin almost coos and leans in to kiss Nick’s collarbone; right above where this thumb is slowly fingering the wound. “You can do it dude…this one isn’t even that bad.” 

 

Nick feels the weight of Griffin leaning into him, how soft and gentle his lips are gliding across his skin and his stomach violently oscillates between feeling terribly sick to having butterflies. Griffin kisses a lazy path up Nick’s neck; past his chin till he’s giving Nick’s cheek small smooches in time with the slow thrusts of his thumb. It hurts, but it’s so good. 

 

Griffin pulls back a little to look at Nick; fully take him in. Thoughts are fading, Nick’s vision is blurring even more now and he’s done this enough to know when his mind and body are closing to their limit. He also knows that, when that happens, Griffin likes to watch. 

 

There’s something so intimate about it; Griffin watching as Nick’s cyber soul finally leaves his body. Nick’s pupils widen, become blown out and dark, as he stares up at Griffin; it’s almost like a tragic movie, Nick notes, if both characters during the final scene had raging boners. 

 

Nick’s breathing is shallow, he looks down and can already see Griffin touching himself. 

 

“…. _ Mmhm…”   _ Nick’s floating now, barely even registering anything but Griffin leaning over him. He knows how this ends. He’s not allowed to think about it. 

 

After one last kiss, this time to Nick’s dry, chapped lips, Griffin shifts back to Nick’s exposed insides and begins to eat. He tucks his hand underneath the wet folds of intestines and unfolds a tube, pulling it completely from Nick’s body. Almost as gone as Nick was becoming, Griffin opens his mouth, bisects the organ with a loud, squishing  _ snap _ of his teeth, and inserts the start of the intestines into his mouth. Fluid and blood drip down his chin and he makes obscene noises as he slurps as much as he can into his mouth. 

 

Nick dies. He takes off his VR headset and sits still. He wasn’t allowed to think about it, but his body was still on fire; still in indescribable turmoil. Hand on his lower abdomen, he felt that his body was intact but, he could still  _ feel _ it. The ghost of Griffin’s hands pulling his insides apart. He dropped his head back in his computer chair and rubbed the area; his other hand slumped into his lap- down between his legs and he helpless rocked into his palm; rubbing the area- the place where Griffin had absolutely destroyed him. The place where Griffin fucking started to  _ eat _ him.  

 

Nick didn’t get a chance to unzip his pants before he cummed in his boxers with a loud, sobbing cry. Boneless, he slumped further in his chair; legs extending out and feeling gross as hell and it felt like it’s been hours and  _ shit- _

 

His cellphone vibrated. 

 

Hesitant for a moment, Nick finally got the energy and courage to grab his phone off the table and displayed on the lock screen was a text from Griffin.

 

_ [I forgot to mention next month is like, really travel heavy for me. Prolly gonna have to grind out a few CGI jrs next week for the queue] _

 

Nick unlocked his phone, hands not quite steady yet, and typed a reply.

 

_ [np. that actually works out w/ my sched as well. Let me know when ur good] _

 

He adds a bunch of emojis, some not really relevant to his response but- that’s just how he does, and sends the text. 

 

He never thinks about it. 


End file.
